


In the dark be your light

by HelloPotato



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/F, Gen, but girls so..., of dubious quality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11160441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloPotato/pseuds/HelloPotato
Summary: Fuck, but this was awkward. She felt a pang of nostalgia for teenage Allison, who threatened people and shouted at strangers and didn’t feel the need to apologise for any of it. Being a functional adult was so overrated.The boring adult lives of Renee Walker and Allison Reynolds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a general warning for vague references to Renee and Andrew's canon background, and very very vague references to Allison's.

In the middle of a record-breaking heatwave the gym’s old air conditioning unit, while technically functional, was not enough to combat the overwhelming heat that a dozen human bodies, pacing endlessly on treadmills and struggling with barbells, were capable of producing.

Renee could feel the damp cotton of her tank top clinging to her back and perspiration curling the hair at the back of her neck. If how Andrew looked was any indication, she was probably also blotchy and red-faced from exertion as she held the punching bag steady for him. His wrapped fists struck the bag in a steady rhythm, barely audible over the whirring of machinery and the soft drone of the television mounted in one corner.

The noise grated at her slightly, scraping against the inside of her skull and setting her teeth on edge. She was conscious of how tired she felt, arms braced and feet planted to prevent herself from being knocked backwards by the force of his blows. They were slightly more aggressive than usual, each one reverberating in her bones, and she knew that Andrew was still annoyed at her refusal to spar with him.

_He can sulk all he wants_ , she thought, feeling more fond than exasperated. _He knows I’m right._

He knew as well as she did that the touch of clammy hands was a mistake on days like today, when the dust and heat and sweat brought ugly things a little closer to the surface. As a rule, he was difficult to read, but prolonged exposure had taught her the little cues, the tense set of his jaw and shoulders, that told her when knocking his feet out from under him would do more harm than good. Sometimes the sensation of fists hitting flesh, of bruises and aching muscles and harsh gasping breaths, could act like an anchor to a mind that didn’t always feel connected to its body. But sometimes it felt more like the blade cutting it loose.

Her runners, worn and due for retirement, slipped a little on the carpet. That earned her a quirked eyebrow, the Minyard equivalent of laughter, but he stopped for a moment to let her re-adjust her grip. She wrinkled her nose at him playfully and stuck out her tongue.

If the press of sticky bodies on the crowded afternoon train made her skin itch, days like this made him want to crawl out of his skin altogether.

It made something in Renee shrivel to see a friend hurting and know that she’d made it worse, even by accident. Andrew knew that, knew how much the thought of harming even one more person made her stomach churn. He never pushed her. He never argued when she didn’t want to fight him. One thing that could be said for Andrew Minyard was that he knew how to take no for an answer. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he appreciated her concern- in fact, he’d told her where she could shove her concern, if she so wished. In anatomical detail. Part of him still saw it as coddling, something which was too close to pity for him to easily accept.  

Still, she could appreciate the clean lines of his stance as he pivoted on one foot to strike the bag with his knee, even if it made her joints ache. Much better than when they’d started, when every punch he made was overextended and his wrists took the strain of each hit landed. _He’s improved so much since then._ Renee tried to hold on to that pride while he took out his frustrations on the punching bag for another minute.

 

Cooling down after a workout was important in order to prevent injury, something which she’d needled Andrew about on more than one occasion.

_However_ , she mused, _sitting down may have been a fatal mistake._

She had one leg stretched out in front of her, head resting on her knee, but she could admit to herself that at this point it was more to support her head than to stretch her calf. She jumped when she felt something cold press against the back of her neck. A hand thrust a bottle of water under her nose, freshly purchased from the vending machine with condensation dripping down the sides.

Andrew wasn’t looking at her as he offered it, staring off into distance in apparent boredom, but she smiled anyway as she took a drink. Something warm settled in her stomach. For someone who didn’t like having his own weaknesses pointed out, he was pretty good at seeing them in others. That he’d noticed how wrung out she felt, and had tried to help (in his own clumsy way), comforted her more than the water did. Not that he’d want or appreciate her gratitude.

Still, she couldn’t help teasing him a little.

“Thank you for the water Andrew.” He grunted.

 “Whatever.” She trotted after him as he walked away from her, covering a yawn with her hand.

“No really, it was very thoughtful of you.”

“Fuck off.”

She laughed as he flipped her off, veering into the women’s changing room. There were a few stragglers from the after-work rush wandering around in towels, and she quickly ducked her head to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Part of Renee cringed at the thought of being considered rude, even by strangers, but she was tired, and she could feel the beginnings of a headache pounding at her temples. She didn’t want to linger at her locker for fear of being dragged into polite conversation by one of the older women.

The showers at the gym came with locking doors, so she allowed herself a moment to rest her forehead against the tiles and let the warm water wash away the sweat and grime of a long day. She didn’t envy Andrew, who still had a shift after this at the bar where he worked. Hot weather always seemed to bring out the worst in people, and alcohol even more so.

She went looking for him after her shower, but couldn’t find him in the gym or outside the changing rooms. Renee assumed that he’d just left without her and headed down to the reception area alone, but she found Andrew waiting there. He was loitering near the service desk, ostensibly reading one of the flyers advertising discount Zumba classes. Knowing him as well as she did, she thought it was more likely that he was actually eavesdropping on the woman arguing with the intimidated receptionist.

“As someone who also works in customer service, don’t you think you’re enjoying this a little too much?” She kept her voice low, although considering how loud the pair were getting she probably didn’t need to.

“They’ve been at it for ten minutes.” He murmured back, smirking slightly. She shook her head.

“Snoop.”

Renee wondered if she should intervene on the receptionist’s behalf, as between the two of them she was the one who looked closer to actually crying. Her adversary, a tall woman with immaculate blonde curls and perfect makeup, was shoving a key across the desk at her while she cringed away from it. It looked similar to the one hanging on Renee’s key-ring that opened her locker at the gym.

“I just need you to take it!” the woman snapped, visibly losing what was left of her patience. The receptions blinked at her in confusion.

“I-if you’d like to cancel your membership, I can-.”

“How hard is this to understand? I need you to hold onto it for me. Just for a month.”

“What?” They seemed to be going around in circles. Renee hoped that neither of them noticed Andrew, who was listening to them in obvious amusement.

The blonde woman took an unsteady breath, cheeks flushed. Against her will, Renee felt a tiny twinge of sympathy. She looked miserable, even though she wasn’t the one being shouted at.

“I just need somebody else to be in control of it for a while. So that I can’t sign in without someone noticing.”

The receptionist made a valiant effort to return to her former professionalism.

“I’m very sorry ma’am, but it’s not our policy to-.” She was cut off again by the other woman, who snatched up the key with bright pink nails.

“Fine! You’re being very fucking unhelpful, I hope you know that.” She whirled around, not wobbling despite the impressive height of her heels. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Andrew and Renee, who had been standing there for too long to be doing anything but gawking at the scene. Renee raised her hands in a placating gesture as the woman stalked towards them.

“Here,” she said, shoving her hand out in front of her. “You take it.” Renee held out a hand unthinkingly and the woman dropped the key into her palm. “Hold onto it for me.”

Renee opened her mouth to object, looking up in bewilderment and meeting the woman’s eyes for a moment. They were very brown, she noticed. Brown, and warm, and-

Renee realised that she had taken too long to respond. The woman nodded as if her silence had been an agreement.

“See you in a month.”

With that, she strode towards the exit, the automatic doors sliding open just in time to let her through. Warm night air carried the sound of traffic inside as Renee stood there gaping after her. Behind her desk the receptionist was still stammering.

Renee felt Andrew come to stand beside her. He peered over her shoulder.

“I think you made a friend.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step to moving past an embarrassing situation, Allison had found, was to pretend that it never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to Allison's past (disordered eating, over-exercising etc). Also swearing, because it's Allison.

The first step to moving past an embarrassing situation, Allison had found, was to pretend that it never happened.

This may mean looking your cousin dead in the eye and pretending that you don’t remember the humiliating disaster that was the Reynolds family reunion of 2004. Or it might require asking, in a concerned and very loud voice, whether said cousin is thinking of something that they did themselves, and whether they might actually be a projecting, pathetic excuse for a human being. And sometimes it means dragging a girl out for coffee after you shout at her and then leave her in charge of your gym membership for a month, forcing her to loiter awkwardly in the reception area for several hours because you _may_ have forgotten to specify a time for her to give your keys back. Because you were busy storming out the door in a righteous fury.

But she could definitely play this off. Gym girl looked a little confused, but not like she was trying to text an SOS to somebody under the table. She even let Allison order for her. Her black coffee went well with the rest of her- high-collared shirt, pleated skirt, the kind of face owned exclusively by people who helped little old ladies cross the street. The hair was the only real outlier, bleached white and divided into two short plaits with the ends dyed in a DIY rainbow of pastel. It was a pretty cute look, in a volunteer-twice-a-week-to-feed-the-homeless sort of way. She even had the sleeves of her sweater pulled over her hands so that she could cradle her steaming coffee mug while taking small, careful sips.

Allison would almost have felt guilty, dragging someone this meek into her gym-induced breakdown, but something told her that gym girl- Renee? -could handle a lot more than Allison was capable of throwing at her. Maybe it was her serene expression, which hadn’t wavered despite being forcibly treated to brunch by an aggressively generous stranger. Or maybe it was just her busted knuckles. Allison wasn’t exactly a fortune-teller, she couldn’t read somebody’s personality from their clothes or their hands. But ‘bruised and swollen’ really didn’t go well with neatly trimmed nails and clear varnish.

Maybe she was a boxer, or a masked vigilante that took on amateur drug lords. Maybe Allison should do something about the awkward silence that was threatening to suffocate them both. A secret more deeply buried than her father’s fifth affair: Allison Reynolds did not always do well in social situations. Making conversation with rich douchebags at her parents’ dinner parties was a lot easier than buying sorry-for-forcing-you-to-do-me-a-favour coffee for a pretty girl.

“Are you feeling better?” Said girl asked, smile kind as she fiddled with her cross necklace. _Shit. Fucking why._

The second step to moving past an embarrassing situation was to brush it off completely. Allison shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yeah, sure. I was just feeling a little off that night.” She took a drink from her own mug, which was a muddled compromise of low-fat milk and caramel syrup. Baby steps.  

Renee smiled more widely, and Allison felt like cringing a little in response. _Does she have to be so god-damned genuine about it?_

“That’s very good to hear.” She was silent for a moment, and Allison almost allowed herself to hope that she’d gotten away with just that half-assed explanation. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you need a stranger to hold on to your keys for a month?”

 _Actually, I do mind you asking_. But Allison probably couldn’t say that to a someone who did her a favour, even if she hadn’t given her much of a choice about agreeing to it. She gave another casual shrug.

“I was just over-doing it a bit at the gym. Needed to take a break.” Was she shrugging too much?

Renee nodded, as if throwing keys at strangers and picking fights with receptionists was something that people who were just ‘over-doing it a bit at the gym’ did.

“And now it’s a month later. Did you have a nice break?” It was impossible to tell if there was something knowing in Renee’s voice, or something judgemental. Allison shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“I mean- it was...productive?” If the definition of productive was stretched to include sitting through therapy appointments and taping a brand-new food plan to her fridge. At least Betsy was better than her last shrink- he’d somehow managed to make her feel like an attention-seeking liar and an unbalanced mess at the same time, all within the span of a therapeutic hour.

 _Fuck_ , but this was awkward. She felt a pang of nostalgia for teenage Allison, who threatened people and shouted at strangers and didn’t feel the need to apologise for any of it.

 _Being a functional adult is so overrated_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Allison,” Neil began, mimicking her. “A little bird told me that you met someone.” Allison glared at him, but Robin could tell she wasn’t that annoyed by his needling. 
> 
> “I meet people all the time Neil.” She took a sip of her coffee, coy. “I’m a very interesting person.”
> 
> “Of course, you are.” He paused, drumming his fingers obnoxiously against the tabletop. “The little bird also told me that you verbally abused this person and then asked her out for coffee.” Robin blinked.
> 
> Allison muttered darkly into her mug. “Fucking Dan, I did not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for a character having a depressive episode, Allison being lovingly insensitive, and emotive swearing.

On airplanes, they always play the same unnerving safety videos. Follow the lights on the floor to the nearest exit, find your life-jacket under your seat, don’t try to stab the pilot with plastic knitting needles, and if worst comes to worst and the oxygen masks come down, make sure that your put yours on before you try helping other people with theirs.

It was a weird thought to have, breaking into her friend’s apartment, but Robin felt like it applied.

“For fuck’s sake, we’re not breaking in, Matt gave us a key”, Allison said, pushing past her into the tiny entryway. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor instead of hanging it up. Robin winced at the poor treatment of a piece of clothing that was undoubtedly worth more than her entire wardrobe. It was probably made out of cashmere, or silk, or fancy cotton, or whatever it was that expensive coats were actually made of.

Robin cautiously followed her across the threshold, toeing out of her shoes and lining them up neatly beside several pairs of scuffed running shoes.

“But Neil didn’t, and he said that he didn’t want to see anybody today, so really, we are here without permission, which is probably trespassing, and I don’t really want to upset him-”

Allison shoved her shoulder gently. Mostly gently. It was possible that she didn’t know her own strength.

“Don’t wimp about on me now, Robin Cross. Operation Hygiene can’t move forward without you.” She smiled at Robin, small and slightly awkward. That was the problem with trying to spend time with the friend of a friend. It didn’t work when said friend wasn’t there to smooth over the uncomfortable silences and remind them that they actually had something in common.

Not that Neil had ever diffused an awkward situation in his life. Created plenty of them, without a doubt, but he never lingered to deal with the aftermath. Unless he had done it deliberately, in which case he had a tendency to sit back and watch people squirm instead of helping.

Robin cast her eyes nervously about the room. It wasn’t a very boy-ish apartment, not like Robin had seen on TV. There was some mess, sure, but no teetering piles of takeaway containers, no obvious skin mags lying on the coffee table. Somebody had even lit a scented candle recently, although it seemed to have gone out, filling the air with a delicious strawberry smell.  

Allison inhaled appreciatively. “Matt,” she said confidingly. “He’s a delightful exception that rather proves the rule, don’t you think?” Robin tore her eyes away from the television in the corner of the room, where a muted game of soccer was playing.

“What rule is that?” Allison smirked, reaching out to tug lightly on the edge of Robin’s hijab where it draped across her shoulders. Robin felt suddenly self-conscious, with Allison’s cool gaze focused on her. Yellow had seemed like a good choice when she’d gone to get dressed this morning. Not particularly subtle, considering their ‘mission’, but bright. Friendly. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“The rule that boys are perfectly capable of being functional human beings, but invariably they will just choose not to be.” She gave one final tug and dropped her hand. “That’s a pretty colour.”

Robin flushed slightly. She was glad when Allison turned back around, and she wasn’t being scrutinised by somebody who looked like they belonged on the cover of Vogue magazine. She didn’t know where Neil had found such a glamorous older friend, but it was wreaking havoc on her delicate teenage equilibrium. She couldn’t help but jump a little bit when Allison raised her voice.

“Josten, front and centre!” she shouted. Allison waited a couple of seconds, bare feet tapping on the carpet. There was no response, apart from a vague mumbling coming from a room down the hall that sounded a bit like _Fuck off and die_. Robin couldn’t be sure.

Allison scoffed and headed towards sound like hound scenting blood, and Robin trailed behind her as she tracked her prey down to his bedroom, shoved the door open and strode across the room to yank the curtains open. The figure curled up beneath the sheets recoiled at the sudden light.

“What the fuck, Allison?” Allison sat beside the lump of covers and patted condescendingly in the general area of Neil’s head.

“There, there, sweetheart. Let it all out.” Robin decided to stay in the doorway. She thought back to the oxygen masks. _What are you doing here?_ she asked herself. _You’re not exactly the poster-child for good coping. You can barely leave the house._

“Allison, I swear to God, it’s-” a disembodied hand fumbled for the alarm clock on the bedside table “-seven AM. What the actual hell are you doing here?”

Allison kept her voice teasing. “A little bird told me that you haven’t gotten out of bed in three days. That’s disgusting, Josten. I’m not allowing it.”

Robin winced. When Matt called her, he’d said that Allison was very good at giving tough love to people who needed it. But as Neil rolled over to face her, looking tired and irritable and a little bit greasy, she wasn’t sure that he needed tough love. Maybe regular love. Love from a distance, that sounded doable. The bags under his eyes were so dark that they looked like bruising.

Allison didn’t appear to share her sentiment. She jostled his shoulder. “C’mon, up. You’re having a shower.”

“No, I’m not.” She scowled and nudged him again.

“Yes, you are. This room smells like you’ve been marinating in your own grossness.”

“Go. Away.” 

Allison sighed. “Fine, but remember that you forced me to do this.” She grabbed a water bottle from the bedside table and held it over his head. He glared up at her.

“You wouldn’t.” She popped the lid threateningly.

“Allison.”

“Neil,” she mocked. She squeezed the bottle.

It was a proper water bottle, with one of those complicated nozzles that only let out a dribble of water. Neil’s squawk of outrage really wasn’t proportional to the amount of water that Allison poured onto his face, but he sat up and snatched the bottle from her, looking as ruffled and offended as a wet cat. He looked pissed, but also slightly less dead. Not like he was about to smile, but like the idea wasn’t entirely foreign to him. He shoved her with a foot. She tugged on his hair.

“Asshole.”

 “Brat.”

It was a strange experience, watching Allison aggressively and affectionately bully Neil into taking a shower. He was obviously still tired and more than a little annoyed, but he looked better for having somebody to argue with. He slammed the door to the bathroom in her face, and she banged on the door and yelled at him.

“I’m leaving some clean clothes outside the door. If you put back on what you’re wearing I’m going to throw you out in the trash right along with it.”

“Fine.”

“Wash your hair.”

“Go to hell!”

“Don’t shout in front of Robin!”

“Then don’t drag Robin into your schemes!”

They seemed to have a rather abrasive friendship. Allison turned to her.

“Would you mind putting on the kettle? I’m going to put his sheets in the wash.” Robin nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with finding clothes for him or stripping the bed. That felt more personal than she was comfortable dealing with for another person, even one that she cared about much as she did Neil.

She put on coffee, and both Allison and Neil joined her soon after, Neil dripping water onto the kitchen floor. He looked even more exhausted than he had before. Allison dropped a plate of toast in front of him, smeared with butter and jam.

Neil looked a bit queasy at the sight of it. “I’m not really that hungry.”

Allison sighed. “I know, sweetie. But try to eat something, and then we’ll fuck off and let you sleep.”

Neil attempted a smirk, an echo of his normal attitude. “That a promise?”  

It was uncomfortable, sitting and pretending that they weren’t all watching him eat, and that Neil hadn’t been ignoring messages and cancelling plans for nearly two weeks now. Robin chewed at her nails.

“So, Allison,” Neil began, mimicking her. “A little bird told me that you met someone.” Allison glared at him, but Robin could tell that she wasn’t that annoyed by his needling.  

“I meet people all the time Neil.” She took a sip of her coffee, coy. “I’m a very interesting person.”

“Of course, you are.” He paused, drumming his fingers obnoxiously against the tabletop. “The little bird also told me that you verbally abused this person and then asked her out for coffee.” Robin blinked.

Allison muttered darkly into her mug. “Fucking Dan, I did not.”

“Sure, you didn’t.” Alison showed him her middle finger.  

“I didn’t!” They waited. “I verbally abused an innocent receptionist, then asked the girl standing nearby out for coffee.”

Neil laughed at her, which then turned into swearing as she kicked him in the shins.

Robin felt better, listening to them bicker. It was a good reminder that you didn’t need to have your life perfectly together, even when you were an adult. It was also good to know that even someone as flawless as Allison Reynolds was capable of embarrassing herself in front a cute girl. Somehow, it made the future feel a little less daunting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan peered through her lashes at Allison’s mysterious maybe-girlfriend. The girl had a good poker face, but she could see the embarrassment beginning to creep its way across her face. Dan rocked forwards on her heels so that her shoulder bumped Renee’s. “Milkshakes?” she offered.
> 
> Renee smiled back at her, shoulders slumping a little in relief.
> 
> “Milkshakes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only warning is for the drunk, douchey ex-boyfriend of an unrelated character being annoying for 2.5 seconds, and then Renee being cool for 3.2 seconds.

Dan surveyed the members of her girls’ netball team like she would troops after battle, taking in their sweaty faces and gleeful smiles as they shook hands with the other team. Aside from Jessica, who had fallen and sprained her ankle five minutes into the game, they all looked healthy enough, no bloody knees or scratched faces to take away from their satisfaction at a game well played. Jessica was sitting with Abby on the raised stone steps that counted for bleachers, chattering away while the nurse wrapped her foot. Dan nodded to herself, and made a mental note to check in with Jessica’s parents to make sure that there were no problems there. The last thing she needed was an angry phone call from somebody for accidentally maiming their child.

She stood by a cardboard box and ticked them off on her list as each girl came over to her to dump their yellow bib in the box and point to where an approved guardian or sibling was waiting to pick them up. At seven o’clock on a Thursday, there was no way that she was releasing a bunch of ten-year-old girls into the night without knowing that they had a way of getting home safely. A small handful lingered by their bags, waiting for her to be done with the last of the stragglers so that she could drop them off on her way home.

She could see Renee sitting with them, handing out water and listening attentively as they dramatically recounted the highlights of a game that she had been there to see them play.

When Dan had called around to all of her friends looking for a last-minute referee substitution, she hadn’t expected Allison to suggest her maybe-friend-maybe-girlfriend. She definitely hadn’t expected Renee to agree to it. She felt a little bit silly, in retrospect, when Renee showed up to the game in sneakers and not Mary Janes, like Dan had half-thought she would. There was just something so _calm_ about Renee, like she was immovable. Dan was honestly surprised that this stillness apparently didn’t extend to physical activity.

Renee beamed at her sunnily when she sat down beside her, her cheeks pink with exertion. Dan smiled back uncertainly, almost unwillingly. She had only met Renee a few times before now, whenever Allison could drag her to movie nights or coffee dates with the rest of their friends. According to Allison, Renee had a busy life; between volunteering and studying and saving kittens from trees, or whatever it was that she did as a job, she didn’t have many hours left in the day for a social life. She still felt a little too good to be true, Dan figured, so nice and friendly that it made her teeth hurt.

Matt said that she wasn’t being fair, and to give Renee a chance before she scoffed at her Jesus-loves-you-and-so-do-I routine. Privately, Dan thought that her instincts were a little better than his, but she kept her mouth shut.

Renee noticed her looking and laughed self-deprecatingly, gesturing to her own flushed cheeks.

“I think I’ve been neglecting my cardio.” She suspected that Renee knew that she made Dan slightly uncomfortable, because she always made an effort to start a conversation with her whenever she was around.  

Dan tried to play along. “Do you not get the chance much?” 

Renee fished a hair tie out of her shorts and used it to pull her bright hair back, scooping up loose strands. “I get to the gym with my friend sometimes, but generally he prefers boxing to running.”

“You box?” Dan asked, surprised. She grimaced at how shocked she sounded. “Sorry, wow. It’s just, you, uh-”

“Don’t seem like the type?” Renee filled in helpfully, nudging Dan with her shoulder. She didn’t look offended. Dan nodded.

“Something like that.”

Their conversation ended when the last of the parents left, with Dan rounding up her remaining charges and corralling them into the back of Matt’s 4x4. Renee slipped into the passenger seat, peering over the headrest to make sure that everyone was buckled in safely.

_She’s either a saint or the best actress that I’ve ever met_ , Dan thought as she started the car.

Their last drop-off was Maria, whose sister worked late and used their mother’s car. The elevator in her apartment complex was broken, so they walked her up the five flights of stairs. Maria bounded ahead of them, full of energy despite having played a game of netball. Dan nearly collided with her when Maria turned into her landing and stopped suddenly (well, less collided and more tripped, because Maria barely came up to her chest).

There was a man sitting in front of her apartment door, taking swigs from a paper-wrapped bottle that Dan was pretty wasn’t water. He glared up at them blearily.

‘Hey, brat.” He pointed at Maria. “Where’s your sister?”

_Ah, shit_.

Dan tried to subtly move in front of Maria, but she wasn’t cooperating very much, too busy glaring at the guy and shooting back a “She’s not here, so fuck off.” _Jeez_ , were ten-year-olds supposed to know that word yet? Dan squashed an inappropriate burst of pride and tried to wrangle Maria back towards the stairs. She didn’t notice the asshole staggering to his feet until he was already in her face.

He squinted at her suspiciously. “You one of her friends?” Up close and personal he smelled like stale beer and douchebag body spray. Dan figured that it wouldn’t go down to well if she gagged pointedly and tried to breathe through her mouth instead.

“Uh, no. We’re just leaving.”

She didn’t quite follow what happened next, but one second he was grabbing her arm and she was getting ready to knee him in the groin, and the next second he was on the ground moaning. Renee stood over him, face blank as she prodded him with a foot.

“You’re not hurt,” she told him, resting a foot on his chest to hold him down when he tried to stand. Renee leaned down with her slight weight, still wearing her oversized basketball shorts and her 'Blue Lake Christian Camp' T-shirt. She smiled hesitantly at Maria, who looked a lot more thrilled with the situation than Dan was expecting her to be. They were terrible role models.

“Do you want to try ringing the doorbell?”

It turned out that their doorbell was one of the one’s that made the lights inside the apartment flash, so Maria’s mother could see when someone was at the door. She had opened it angrily, expecting her daughter’s drunken ex-boyfriend again, and was quite surprised to find him on the ground, and her other daughter’s netball coach sheepishly apologising for the trouble.  

Maria’s mother had hustled her inside, but not before kissing Dan warmly on the cheek and asking her to _thank that small friend of yours for convincing him to finally leave!_ She signed an enthusiastic farewell, Maria giggling in the background. Dan took a moment to bury her face in her hands and scream silently, before following Renee down the steps.

Thankfully, Renee was waiting for her on the footpath. Even better, drunk asshole was nowhere to be seen. She stood beside Renee, and they stared at each other awkwardly for a minute. Eventually Dan huffed a laugh, dragging a hand through her curls. “God, I need a drink.” Renee looked guilty at that, and Dan winced.

“Not that it’s your fault! Just…urgh, long day.” She scuffed a foot on the pavement. “Want to go grab a beer or something?”

Renee looked away. “I don’t really drink. Anymore, I mean. Don’t drink anymore.” Now they were both staring at the pavement, examining the scattered cigarette butts and the wavering shadows cast by passing cars.

Dan peered through her lashes at Allison’s mysterious maybe-girlfriend. The girl had a good poker face, but she could see the embarrassment beginning to creep its way across her face. Dan rocked forwards on her heels so that her shoulder bumped Renee’s. “Milkshakes?” she offered.

Renee smiled back at her, shoulders slumping a little in relief.

“Milkshakes.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she imagined Renee introducing her to her friends, she had figured: bible study group. Maybe a vet who ran a free clinic and owned an angry cat with one eye. Or a little grandmother who knitted jumpsuits for whatever charities gave knitted goods to babies.
> 
> Renee’s bestie looked a lot more like he drank blood and set things on fire recreationally (not that she was stereotyping, but geez, that was a lot of black).

Despite the fact that they had been tentatively dating for weeks now, Allison still found Renee to be a bit incomprehensible. It was probably her own fault, she knew, for taking Renee’s cross necklace and soft voice at face value- hell, if she was actually as mild as she sometimes came across, Allison would probably have died of boredom by this point.

But still, when she imagined Renee introducing her to her friends, she had figured: bible study group. Maybe a vet who ran a free clinic and owned an angry cat with one eye. Or a little grandmother who knitted jumpsuits for whatever charities gave knitted goods to babies.

Renee’s bestie looked a lot more like he drank blood and set things on fire recreationally (not that she was stereotyping, but _geez_ , that was a lot of black). And seriously, he had been sitting on her couch for about twenty minutes while Renee talked to him and had yet to crack a smile. Who didn’t smile with Renee sitting that close?

Trust Renee to make friends with anyone, even a brick wall.

_Although_ , Allison mused, leaning against the kitchen counter and blatantly spying on the people in her living room, _he doesn’t look so blank whenever Neil opens his mouth_. Granted, instead he mostly looked like a bird had just crapped in his hand, a little bit exasperated and a little bit disdainful, but still, Allison was totally calling it. Goth boy had a crush on her tiny asshole of a friend.

Renee caught her eye from where she was sitting next to Andrew, her feet tucked up under her. _Young love_ , she mouthed, grinning cheekily.

Allison wrinkled her nose in fake disgust. _Urgh, boy emotions_ , she mouthed back, while Neil squinted at her suspiciously.

She smiled at him winningly. “I’m so glad you dropped by, shorty.” Neil frowned.

“You texted saying you needed help with something.”

“Did I?” she asked, feigning confusion. “Weird.”

Renee looked at her again. Allison made sure that the boys weren’t watching before she wiggled her eyebrows at her suggestively, and watched as she covered her mouth to hide a laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sucked down her drink while Allison fussed with her phone. This wasn’t atypical Allison behaviour- from their first meeting in the same waiting room six months ago, Allison had been a spotty conversation partner. But she always sat next to Katelyn, and they shared commiserating looks when the receptionist called their name. Sometimes they bought each other coffee. Katelyn liked to think that they were tentatively friends.
> 
> (It was what she had told her boyfriend, when they first started dating, that she had a long-standing coffee date with a friend every Wednesday afternoon. It wasn’t technically a lie.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way too short, but apparently it's been nearly half a year, which, bananas. Soz but not soz?
> 
> No warnings, except for the vaguest implication of poor mental health that is being lovingly addressed with decent therapy.

Every Wednesday, Katelyn had an appointment at the local health centre. There was just one waiting area for health and psychological services, with a handful of patients strung out between the rows of seats with as many empty spaces between each other as possible. Nobody really talked to each other; they tended to keep their heads buried in the outdated magazines provided and maybe, if it was their first time in this particular waiting room, snicker quietly over the anti-smoking poster hanging above the receptionist’s desk (which showed a man huffing a limp cigarette with the caption ‘Smoking can cause impotence: speak with your doctor today’).

Nobody talked to one another, that is, until Allison Reynolds made her grand entrance at 3.45pm, sailing through the front door with a Starbucks coffee in each hand and enormous sunglasses covering half of her face. As usual, she took the empty seat next to Katelyn, passing over a caffeine-filled and desperately needed Frappuccino. There were beads of condensation running down its plastic sides, and Katelyn took a moment to hold it up to her cheek. It did a better job than the air conditioning of cooling her down.

She sucked down her drink while Allison fussed with her phone. This wasn’t atypical Allison behaviour- from their first meeting in the same waiting room six months ago, Allison had been a spotty conversation partner. But she always sat next to Katelyn, and they shared commiserating looks when the receptionist called their name. Sometimes they bought each other coffee. Katelyn liked to think that they were tentatively friends.

(It was what she had told her boyfriend, when they first started dating, that she had a long-standing coffee date with a friend every Wednesday afternoon. It wasn’t technically a lie.)

-

It was a bit unexpected, coming out of her appointment to find Allison and her boyfriend having some sort of silent stand-off in the car park. Allison looked up as she approached, glaring at her playfully over her sunglasses.

“Your boyfriend is Aaron Minyard?” she asked, with exaggerated horror. Aaron rolled his eyes at that, but up close he didn’t look particularly angry. More like exasperated, and maybe a little bit harassed, which wasn’t that unusual. Most people weren’t built to withstand Allison at her most Allison-ey.

Katelyn looked back and forth between them. “How do you two know each other?”

Allison shrugged. “His brother is my son-in-law.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that – unless Allison’s hypothetical child was a very romantic toddler, she didn’t see how that was possible – but Aaron just rolled his eyes again, harder.

“For the last time, Neil isn’t your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, that poster actually exists.

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing.


End file.
